1,001 Sexual Positions for the Flaming Wizard
by Taylor Chasikin
Summary: Part Two up! Embarassed Dean, Giggling friends, Meddlesome trouble, the Room of Requirement and Locking Charms. oh my
1. Tease

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. Not in this story at least. Which is shiny and new for me. All those mentioned therein belong to the fantabulous Lady Rowling. Not Me. Those books would be altogether something quite different if they did. Different and possibly not child-friendly. Um. Yeah.

**Rating**: uh, T?

**Warnings**: slight insinuation of incest, but pfft.

**Summary**: Dean draws, Seamus laughs, the twins bounce in and hell ensues

**Author's** **notes**: this came to me in the haze of morning when I wasn't quite awake yet. It was just too much fun. My first attempt at HP fanfic.

**1,001 Sexual Positions for the Flaming Wizard**

by

**Taylor the Inescapable**

He rubbed his finger along the outline to create the effect of shading. He was determined for reasons he wouldn't explain. It had to be perfect. The picture just had to be perfect. Which was insane and neurotic since in all likeliness no one else would ever even see the picture, but Dean Thomas was determined to make it perfect. Now if only He would stop moving.

Dean glanced up from his drawing at the object of his frustration. Seamus Finnegan stretched his arms up above his head and laughed at something Harry Potter said. Dean didn't know what, but from the good-natured glare Ron Weasley shot at them it was probably related to the red-haired boy. Whatever had been said, however, wasn't too inflammatory as Ron simply resumed searching his trunk.

The boys were currently in their dormitory in the process of getting ready for bed. Dean already had on his sleep pants and t-shirt and sat cross-legged and had been, for the past ten minutes, engrossed in his sketching. Seamus also was already changed, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and currently stood by the end of his bed talking to Harry and Ron, who had come into the dorm only moments before. Neville, strangely enough, was the one who hadn't returned yet. All in all, it was a peaceful, cheery moment and everyone was happy and safe.

As usual this sort of moment tends not to last.

Dean jumped then swore when the door to the dormitory slammed open, causing him to smear more of his drawing than he meant to. Fred and George Weasley bounced into the room. The twins looked around for a moment before they spotted their apparent prey.

"Ron!" Fred cried out in an entirely too happy voice.

"Just the Weasley we were looking for!" George slung his arm over Ron's shoulder.

"Why?" Ron was clearly skeptical to their intentions. Dean couldn't blame him. Looking back and forth between the expressions on the Twins' faces, he felt a bit nervous himself.

"You see," Fred said dramatically, with his hands behind his back. "There's this potential new product we've come up with recently."

"And we want to test it out," George added in continuance, "just to be sure."

"And we need your help." Fred smiled quite wickedly. Almost predatory.

Ron paled. "M-Me?" he squeaked. "M-My help? Why not G-Ginny?"

"She's a girl," George dismissed, waving it off like it was completely silly. "Totally not the right person for this."

Ron looked back and forth between his brothers. "What is it?"

With a grand flourish, Fred brought a large book out from behind his back. "_1001 Sexual Positions for the Flaming Wizard_!" He proclaimed loudly and with great Pride.

"What?" Ron's eyes widened in what might be interpreted as horror. "No!" He cried out in clear panic. "I can't!" His eyes darted around wildly for help. "I-I've just remembered," Ron stammered. "I have to, uh, to go and meet, Hermione, to do that thing, that we're doing."

George just looked over at Fred with a smile on his face. "Isn't he sweet?"

Fred nodded in agreement. "Too cute when he's desperate."

With that, the Twins each seized one of Ron's arms and forcibly dragged him from the room.

"Noooo!" Ron's voice echoed in the hallway until it was quite suddenly cut off by the slam of another door.

Dean smirked to himself and looked over at Harry, who had an oddly dreamy look on his face.

"That reminds me," Harry said, mostly to himself. "I have to go and meets Draco."

Dean arched his eyebrow. Draco? Since when? But even more interesting... "Fred and George forcibly dragging off Ron to try out _1001 Sexual Positions for the Flaming Wizard_ reminded you to meet Malfoy?"

Harry's eyes widened. "No!" He said, a bit too quickly. "No, I mean," His words stumbled out at an amusing rate. "The dragging off, the pain," Harry cast about desperately. "I have to, um, go and fight him! Yes! I'm going to teach that Dra—" He caught himself, "Malfoy a thing or too! All very wandsy and um, violent, and slippery and flexible and dramatic and grr!" Dean watched his friend bemused as Harry tried to growl like a tough beast. "I'll put him in a position or two." Harry's eye crossed at the wording. "Ooh."

Dean snorted. "Right then," he said with amusement, then paused upon a sudden realization. "Where's Neville?"

"Oh, he's still in the Greenhouses," Harry waved off Dean's concern.

Dean frowned. "Still? Doing what?"

Harry snickered. "You may not want to know the answer to that." Dean wasn't sure how to feel about that response but was leaning towards somewhat disturbed. "No! Not like that, well possibly like that, but there may be a Hufflepuff involved, not that there's anything wrong with a Hufflepuff, I mean--"

Dean looked at his rambling friend. "Harry?"

"Yes?" Harry looked over at Dean, who looked back at him with his eyebrow arched. "Oh, right, well," Harry turned around and checked himself in the mirror quickly, "I'm just going to go off then and shag Draco." He squeaked. "I mean snog!" He let out another squeak. "I mean scream at! Yes, scream at Draco!" Harry said assertively. "Malfoy!" He corrected himself. "Bye!" Harry ran from the room in a flurry of robe.

Dean laughed quietly to himself. "Mental." He shook his head and smiled. Dean looked up to the only other remaining occupant of the room and was surprised.

"Shay?" Seamus sat on the end of his bed, with his arms crossed over his chest, frowning.

Dean felt concerned. "What's wrong?" He got up off of his bed and walked over to his unhappy friend.

Seamus pouted. "Why is everyone getting shagged but me?"

Dean choked. "What?" Not the pout, anything but the pout.

"What's wrong with me?" Seamus stood up and gestured to his body. "Am I ugly?"

"Ugly?" Dean repeated in disbelief. No, not ugly. Definitely not ugly.

"Am I that horrifying?" Seamus asked, walking past the gaping Dean to look in the mirror on the wall. "That's it, isn't it? My hair is all flat and boring, my nose is too pointy, my eyes are too small, my ears stick out, my lips are too big..."

"No," Dean swallowed. "No, you're not, um, you're not ugly, Shay." Dean looked at Seamus as he kept looking into the mirror. "Quite the opposite really." He blushed when he realized that was out loud.

Seamus turned to his best friend with a toothy grin. "Really?"

Dean nodded, temporarily blinded by the beauty of that smile. He reached out and grabbed on to one of the posts on Seamus's bed to steady himself. "Yeah."

Seamus's smile disappeared. "Then I'm fat, that's it then, isn't it?"

Dean felt his head spin. "You aren't fat." Was this conversation really happening?

Seamus looked down at his waist. "I eat too much and it's all going to my belly and I have little rolls and I'm squishy like a troll." He poked himself as he spoke. "Look." He pulled his t-shirt over his head and stepped closer to Dean. "See? Troll like." He reached out and placed Dean's hand on his side.

Dean bit his lip to swallow the whimper. He was touching Seamus. He was touching a shirtless Seamus. Seamus was making him touch him, while not wearing a shirt. His mind was blown. Ooh, blown.

"You are not like a troll," He said, then cleared his voice in hope to cover up the squeak. "You aren't fat, Shay." Dean's eyes roved over his friend's chest. "You're very not fat." Dean shifted his feet and prayed that Seamus wouldn't notice the tenting in his pants. "You're, um, lean and toned and not squishy at all." Dean swallowed as he allowed himself to move his hand along his best friend's side. "Smooth," He whispered as he touched Seamus's fair skin.

He looked up to find Seamus grinning shyly at him again. "Really?"

Oh god, that smile. "Yeah," Dean squeaked, then cleared his throat again. "Yeah."

Seamus once again lost his grin as he turned to look over his shoulder into the mirror. "Then it's my arse."

Dean could barely contain the whimper that time. " Y-your arse?"

"Yeah," Seamus said as he rubbed a hand over said arse. "It's all non existent and flat and bony and just awful, not shaggable, is it?"

Dean swore his knees would give out. "No, you, um," He took a very deep swallow, but it didn't help too much. He was surprised his mouth was so dry since he felt like salivating. "You have, uh, a very nice arse, Shay." He really, really wanted to touch it. "It's, um, quite round and um, firm."

Dean gasped. His hand slipped. He swore it wasn't on purpose but his hand slipped down to Seamus's arse. "Oh god."

Dean couldn't be sure, but he thought Seamus might have shivered. "Really?" Seamus asked, his voice coming out oddly breathy. "You think so?"

Dean was lost. Lost in two eyes of blue that were hypnotizing him quite thoroughly to the point where he was no longer sure about his ability to maintain his trademark sense of calm.

"Yeah," Dean said, quite breathy himself, "You're perfect, Shay."

"Then what is it, Dean?" Seamus looked lost. His eyebrows furrowed and, dear god the pout was back. "If I'm so pretty and toned and nice-arsed, then why?" Seamus began inching closer. "Why doesn't anyone like me? Why doesn't anyone think I'm shaggable?"

And Dean snapped. "I do."

Dean's other hand shot out and moved to the back of Seamus's neck. He used that hand and the one on his arse to pull the shorter boy to him. And Dean kissed Seamus.

Seamus gasped, parting his lips, which Dean took full advantage of this and swiped his tongue in the space.

Seamus whimpered and clutched his hands in Dean's shirt, pulling their bodies even closer together.

Dean moaned. A full on moan. This was beyond anything he had ever imagined. He slid his hand into Seamus's hair and pulled his head to the side, diving in and latching onto the other boy's neck.

Seamus whimpered and bucked up against the taller boy. "Dean!" he gasped, clutching at Dean's head. He was writhing, grinding, shaking with ecstatic pleasure.

Dean bit down and sucked harder on Seamus's neck. His hand on Seamus's arse slipped up the smooth back, and then down again beneath the waistband of his shorts.

The blond gasped. "Dean." Seamus voice was getting higher, and sounded an odd bit like Hermione's.

"Dean!"

He jerked awake. "Guh!" Dean blinked a few times and then shook his head. Standing in front of him were the smiling faces of Ron, Harry, Hermione and Neville. "Wha-what's happening?"

"Class is over," Hermione said, trying not to laugh for some reason.

"Oh, right, ok," Dean said, slowly coming back to himself. He began to gather up his things. He glanced up again. "What're you all looking at?" He frowned at their expressions, then glanced to the seat beside him. "Where's Seamus?"

"Oh, he scampered off right as it ended," Harry said, having lost the battle with himself and now grinning quite wickedly at Dean. Ron and Neville snickered.

"What?" Dean stood up straight. "Why didn't he wait for me?" He frowned at the collective evil grins of his friends. "What?"

Hermione giggled finally. "You talk in your sleep, Dean."

Dean looked at them. "Oh, fuck!"

**end part one.**

Wahahahahaha! And thus it begins. This is planned as a two parter, so keep watch! R&R of course, and go off and read my other things! Do it! Now! and if you see something not correct, let me know.


	2. Release

_Okay, so here is part two. I wish to thank the lovely people who have reviewed and inspired me to continue and make sure I get this part finished: PoE-dA-hOe, Annebelle Kare, Hepzheba, ShayaCatalyst, Chainlinks, plaidshorts, Squibakou, SuddsBubblesandMore, Love!, and stolenchantment. _

_I know it took a while and I apologize, but understand I have quite a few other stories I'm working on at the same time. Not to mention school and work. But for now, here is this._

**1,001 Sexual Positions for the Flaming Wizard**

**part two**

It wasn't that funny. It was nowhere near that funny. It was so far from being funny that funny was like an ant. A small absolutely minuscule and quite squishy ant that could be crushed under the gigantic weight that was the embarrassment, mortification and utter dread Dean currently felt throughout his entire essence of being. Or to put it more simply, Dean was blushing nuclear and the incessant laughter around him was Not Helping.

He glared to his right where Neville stood wiping his eyes from mirth on the sleeve of his robes.

He glared to the chair beside him where Harry sat clutching his sides. His glasses looked about to fall off his nose.

He glared at the floor where Ron rolled around in glee. A few snorts escaped here and there which somehow only made him laugh harder.

He glared to his left where Hermione sat, energetically reenacting the whole painful ordeal for Ginny, who sat on the arm of the couch beside her.

"Wait, wait," Ginny gasped out. She clutched onto Hermione's arm to keep from toppling backwards. "What sort of noise was it again?"

Neville did a fairly good imitation of a rather sexual moan that sent the group into fits of laughter again. Dean sat in the middle on the couch, glowering. They weren't helping. Couldn't they see that they weren't helping? Didn't anyone care about his misfortune?

"Right in the middle of a rather particularly boring part of the lecture," Hermione laughed and nearly fell off of the couch.

"Boring PART?" Ron said incredulously. He looked up at Hermione from his spot on the floor, grinning like a pink faced maniac.

"Whatever," Hermione waved him off, "The point is, even I wasn't paying attention to Professor Binns!"

Dean snapped. "When you're done glorying in my misery here," Dean glared at the circle of his supposed friends, "Do you think maybe you could help me?" He flapped his arms about a bit to emphasize his current state of Less Than Calm.

"Help you with what?" Harry asked as he leaned back in the chair beside the couch, trying to catch his breath. Neville wheezed and fell to the floor beside him.

"Figuring out a way to save my friendship?" Dean said, beginning to outwardly demonstrate clear signs of panic to the others. "Seamus is probably up there plotting my death as we speak."

Ron waved a hand. "Highly doubtful," He said between breaths. "I just don't think he caught as much of it as we did."

"Or maybe he did and he's just being shy about it?" Hermione suggested. She arched an eyebrow and exchanged knowing looks with Ginny.

"What?" Dean looked at their faces, then turned to look at the boys for support in his confusion. Oddly enough, he didn't find it.

"Ron?" Harry smirked rather wickedly. Dean found himself flashing back to the smiles Fred and George had in his dream. He felt a bit unsafe.

Suddenly, Dean found that he was being pulled backwards through the portrait hole. "Hey!" He yelled and struggled to free his arms from the hold of Harry and Ron, only to have his legs lifted up by Neville. "What're you doing?! Hey!"

xxx

He was going to kill them. He was going to kill all of them. He wasn't entirely sure how, but he was going to. Preferably slow and more elaborate then was necessary. As soon as he managed to get out of the Room of Requirement, he was going to destroy them all. First things first, he had to break down the door.

He did not want to think about why the only other things in the room were a large four-poster bed and a nightstand, with a Drawer. He feared the Drawer. He found that pounding on the door and swearing loudly and quite colorfully distracted him from those thoughts. Thoughts of the Drawer.

"Let me out!" Dean kicked the door harder and swore again. "This isn't funny guys!"

"Nope," Harry's voice called back, sounding far too smug and amused. "Not until you deal with things!" Dean knew he was grinning that smug Harry Potter grin and he wanted to knock it off his face with ...with... something that knocks grins off of faces.

"Deal with what things? How?" Dean yelled back. He moved back a bit to make another running dash at the door. He let loose a loud manly bellow and charged.

The door swung open and Dean collided with the hard body of another person being apparently thrown at him from the outside. They tumbled onto the floor in heap of limbs and the door slammed shut again.

Dean sat up and shook his head, then felt the blood freeze in his veins. "Seamus?"

Seamus's blue eyes widened as he leaped up from his position of straddling Dean's waist. "Dean!"

"Now deal with it!" the voice of Hermione shouted through the door and the laughter of the others could be heard after.

"Hey!" Dean shouted. He launched up from the floor. "Let us out of here!" He pounded on the door and shook the knob.

He heard Hermione's voice on the other side muttering what was probably a tricky little locking spell they had learned in charms. "Hermione!" Dean yelled. "Ron! Harry!" He listened at the door. "Neville?" the other side was silent. "Dammit!"

"I guess we're stuck in here then," Seamus said rather quietly. He fidgeted with the seam of his robes and watched Dean huff at the door.

"I guess so." Dean really, really did not want to turn around.

"So..." Seamus shuffled his foot along the floor.

"So..." repeated Dean. He looked resolutely at the door. The graining was really quite interesting. Really, it was.

"So," Seamus said again. "I guess that was some dream you had."

Dean winced. "Yeah, um, about that..."

"What happened?" Seamus blurted. Dean turned to look at him and saw his friend's eyes were either still wide or wide again, he couldn't really be sure since he didn't see them go normal again. "I mean, it's alright, you can tell me anything," Seamus babbled a bit, his cheeks going pink. Dean wanted to push him back onto the bed. "Er, well maybe not anything, but, oh you know!" Seamus sat back onto the bed with his arms crossed. His cheeks were flushing pinker. Dean prayed he wouldn't pout.

Dean swallowed at the sudden dryness in his mouth. "Do you want me to start from the beginning?"

Seamus looked up at Dean. He nodded. "Sure."

Dean sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Well, it began with us all just getting in to go to bed." He paused as it flashed back into his mind. "Oddly realistic and all." Then he grinned at the memory of it. "Then Fred and George came in to kidnap Ron to try out a new product."

"Product?" Seamus repeated, interest piqued.

Dean nodded. He walked closer. "A book."

Seamus grinned. Dean stumbled. "What kind of book?"

Dean felt the familiar reflexive calm feeling in him as he grinned back himself. "'1,001 Sexual Positions for the Flaming Wizard'."

Seamus snorted and started giggling. Dean wanted to jump him, but settled for moving to sit across from him on the other side of the bed. "No!" Seamus laughed, highly amused. "What happened?"

Dean shrugged. "He struggled, but they dragged him off." Dean smirked. "Then Harry went to sneak out to have a shag with Malfoy."

Seamus's eyes went even wider and he clasped a hand over his mouth. "Malfoy!?!"

"Yeah," Dean laughed with him. It felt amazing. Seamus didn't hate him. "And he was trying to be sneaky about it, but he's not very good with the sneaky." Seamus nodded. He knew what Dean meant.

"Where was Neville?" Seamus asked. He leaned forward conspiratorially.

Dean paused, faux thinking for dramatic effect. "In the greenhouse doing, something, with a Hufflepuff." Dean winked at Seamus. "Harry said I didn't want to know."

Seamus fell over on his side. "That's brilliant!" he laughed loudly.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, watching his best friend. His hair looked really soft. He really wanted to touch it. He really needed to get off. The bed! Get off the bed! Dean blushed.

Seamus rolled onto his back and placed a hand behind his head. "What was I doing then during all this?"

Dean felt his mouth go dry again. "I don't know," Dean rasped. He coughed. "I turned around and you were off pouting on your bed."

"Pouting?" Seamus furrowed his brow in confusion. Dean fidgeted.

"Yeah, and then you, um," Dean swallowed again, or tried to. Where was a glass of water when he needed it? Oh, on the nightstand. Drawer!

Dean shook his head and looked back at Seamus who waited patiently. Dean closed his eyes. "You started complaining about everyone getting shagged but you."

Seamus had the decency to blush. Dean felt better knowing he wasn't the only one having trouble with that. "Did I?"

"Yeah," Dean said rather breathlessly. He cleared his throat again. "You asked if you were ugly, and started obsessing and I, um, I..."

"... said I was quite the opposite," Seamus finished quietly. He lay on his side and picked at the bedspread, biting his lip.

Dean tried not to whimper. "Yeah."

"Tell me."

Dean could feel his eyes widen. "What?" It was quite possible his heart may have stopped beating for a moment. Yes, he must be dead. Seamus would never actually be looking at him like that.

"What did I say?" Seamus looked up at him. Dean wondered what class Seamus had taken to learn how to hypnotize people with his eyes.

"You said, um," Dean managed to start. "Your hair was boring." Seamus reached up to his hair. "But it's not," Dean added quickly. He had to physically stop himself from reaching out to touch said sandy blonde hair. "It's, not." He winced as he dugs his nails into his palm.

"And you said your nose was too pointy, but it isn't," He was faster this time. Dean really wished Seamus would look away. It was getting heard to concentrate. "It's pointy enough. And you said your ears stick out, but they don't, not in a bad way at least, and you said that your lips were too big, but they aren't." Dean looked at Seamus's lips and licked his own. He thought he heard a whimper but he shook it off.

Pretty lips. Soft pretty pink lips. Pouty pink lips. Pretty pouty pink lips. Alliteration was going to drive him insane. "What else?"

Dean zoned back in "Huh?" He watched Seamus push himself into a kneeling position on the bed.

"What did I say next?" Dean tried not to notice that Seamus had gotten a bit closer.

Dean couldn't move. "You asked if you were fat," Dean replied, not sure if he was actually in control of the conversation any more. "And you took of your shirt."

Seamus bit his lips for a moment. "Like this?" Dean's brain broke as he watched Seamus somehow manage to pull his shirts off over his head in pretty much one fluid movement, leaving the other boy shirtless, and yes, somehow closer than before.

Yes, Dean Thomas, there is a Santa Claus. "Y-Yeah." Dean hoped that the squeak wasn't as noticeable as he thought it was. He couldn't stop his eyes from roving over the body in front of him. "And you said you, um," He somehow found the coherency to continue. "that you ate too much and that you had a belly, which you, really don't."

"No?" Seamus asked. Dean could hear him breathing. Dean could feel him breathing. When did they get this close?

"No." Dean really wanted to touch the belly.

"You said I was soft." Seamus voice sounded a bit hoarse, almost husky. He was flushed still and Dean was enthralled to see that he didn't just turn pink in his face.

Dean let his hand move. It grazed over Seamus's side and the other boy gasped. Dean tried to jerk his hand back but Seamus grabbed it and held it there. Dean swallowed, looking at the blue eyes across from his. So close. "You are."

"And then?" Seamus asked, moving his hand up Dean's arm.

"And then," Dean continued, wondering if it was really that warm in the room or if it was just Seamus, "You said you didn't have an arse. That is was flat and bony and awful."

"Oi!" Seamus frowned a bit and leaned back.

Dean smiled in spite of himself. "You said it!"

"In your dream!" Seamus reached out with both hands and pushed Dean on his shoulders, then left his hands there. Dean's other hand came up to hold onto Seamus's arm.

"It's not though," Dean said, regaining some of his earlier seriousness. He felt braver now. He wasn't sure where it was coming from. "I said that, didn't you hear?"

"I think I was too busy blushing and trying to hide at that point," Seamus admitted, looking down at the bed between them. "Hermione was snickering something awful."

"Then you missed it?" Dean didn't flinch this time, when Seamus look up at him in confusion. "How I said you had a nice arse, round and firm?" Dean more felt then consciously realized that his hand was sliding from Seamus's side to his arse.

Seamus's eyes fluttered for a moment as he took a sharp breath. "R-really?"

Dean nodded. "I said you're perfect." The words came out clearer then he thought they would.

"A-And then?" Seamus seemed dazed. It might have been due to Dean's hand rubbing up his shoulder, or possibly the hand squeezing his arse, or due to the lack of actual oxygen since the boys were now close enough that they may have been sharing breath.

Dean swallowed. "You pouted again. Wondered why if you were so perfect, why didn't anyone want to shag you."

Seamus's eyes were quite dilated. "And?"

"I um, I said that..." Dean felt himself moving closer.

Seamus may have been pulling him, as his hands had moved from Dean's shoulders to the back of his neck. "Yeah?"

"I did."

"Thank god!"

Dean fell onto his back with the force of the lunge Seamus made. However his brain didn't process the fact because it was too busy short-circuiting due to the rather insistent Irish tongue mingling with his own.

Which may not have been such a good thing.

"Ow!"

Seamus toppled onto his side as Dean rubbed his forehead in pain.

Seamus was kneeling next to him in a flash. "Sorry!" He cried out, trying to pull Dean's hands away so he could inspect the damage. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean--"

"Seamus, ow, stop would you?" Dean batted his friend's hands away, sitting up and moving a few inches away from him on the bed.

Seamus sank back on his knees. "Sorry, just got a bit, um, lost in the moment." He bit his lip and looked at his hands.

Dean fell a little bit harder at the sight of his contrite friend. He reached out and pulled Seamus over to sit on his lap. "Did you hear me complaining?" Dean said, kissing Seamus behind the ear.

Seamus sighed, then paused in mock thought. "Well no, but it can be hard to talk with someone else's tongue in your mouth. So if there's anything you wanted to say you can now since my tongue is all over here and not in your mouth and--"

"I love you." Dean whispered into his best friend's ear.

The Seamus babble ceased immediately. Seamus looked at Dean stunned. "Oh."

Dean arched his eyebrow. "Oh?" Not entirely the reaction he hoped for.

Seamus shook himself. "I mean, um, I," He searched.

Dean laughed, albeit a bit nervously, but it still felt nice. "Did I just render one Seamus Finnegan speechless?"

Seamus smiled and leaned his head against Dean's, being careful not to hurt him. "You did."

Dean wrapped his arms around Seamus and pulled him closer. "A good speechless?"

Seamus moaned as Dean planted kisses on his neck and shoulder. "The best kind ever."

"So, does that mean..." Dean trailed off pulling back a bit.

Seamus turned to face Dean more fully, straddling him. "Aye, it does." He kissed him soundly. "Love you too."

Dean snorted in spite of himself. "I should bloody well hope so." Seamus giggled with him and pushed Dean down onto his back again.

Seamus wiggled his hips on his friend's lap making Dean groan. "So..."

"So..." Dean replied, placing his hands on Seamus's hips.

Seamus smiled wickedly down at Dean. "So, just what do you suppose is in that Drawer?"

Dean smiled back and reached over...

xxx

An Hour Later...

"It's quiet." Harry pressed his ear to the door.

"Means nothing." Ron stood behind him with Neville. "There's a silencing charm on it."

Harry frowned. "We should check."

Ron nodded. "We should." No one moved. "Well go on then."

Harry paled. "What, why me?"

"You suggested it." Ron replied.

"Well, yeah, but what if they're, you know, all, at it?" Ginny tried not to laugh at the utter fear entering Harry's expression.

Ron stared at his best friend. "You faced Basilisks and Spiders and Dementors. And You-Know-Who! You can deal with two shagging boys."

Harry cast about in desperation. "Neville?"

Neville's reaction was less reserved. "No! Uh-uh! No way!"

Hermione made a noise of loud frustration. "Boys! We'll do it!"

"We will?" Ginny asked as Hermione grabbed her arm and released the locking charm on the door.

"Why are you sounding so happy about that?" Ron called after his sister as the two girls disappeared into the Room of Requirement.

A few minutes passed. The boys waited. Harry shifted his weight back and forth. Neville twirled his wand nervously in his fingers until sparks shot out the end. Ron was frowning.

A hurried rush of robe startled them as the girls returned. "Hermione?"

Ginny smiled wickedly and Hermione tried to compose herself. "We'll come back later," She squeaked and then ran off, with Ginny in tow, laughing loudly.

Harry looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry. Ron and Harry looked at Neville. All three boys looked at the door.

Who knew they could run that fast?

**The End.**

_Again I say thank you for reading! Sorry it took so long, but I needed to get it right!_


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